He’d called three times during the week, after ten her time, which was 1:00 a.m. in Washington, so she knew he was working hard. He had sounded exhausted and she really wouldn’t blame him if he canceled coming this evening. With that thought, she checked her cell phone for a message of regret, but so far nothing.
She slipped on the black evening gown she’d agonized over for days. Was it too revealing for a charity function? Although fairly modest at the front, showing only a hint of cleavage, it plunged to a deep vee at the back, making wearing a bra impossible. If that wasn’t enough, there was a thigh-high slit on one side, which as long as she stood still no one would notice. However, if she took too large of a step, the top of her stockings showed. Not that she was likely to take large steps in the four-inch heels, which evidently were required to show the dress off to the max.
Mandy had picked out the dress, and after Lorelei tried it on her friend had insisted she buy it. She should have stuck with the dress she’d originally intended to wear, before she’d invited Liam. That one had been fade-into-the-curtains boring and would have rendered her virtually invisible among a room full of San Francisco’s elite. However, she’d wanted to wear something to wow Liam. Once she’d told Mandy he was coming, her friend had whisked her off to an exclusive boutique that specialized in dresses by student designers. It had also cost her two weeks’ salary; she hoped she kept her job to pay for it.
Her phone buzzed and Lorelei swallowed. A lead ball took up residence in her stomach as she was sure it was Liam calling to say he was too tired to make it. Well, they could probably have a nice quiet lunch tomorrow, or maybe she’d invite him over for dinner at her place.
“Lorelei Torres,” she said, not recognizing the number on the caller display.
“Miss Torres, one of the guests is asking to be moved to a different table. Perhaps you could suggest an alternative placement?” The hotel event manager’s voice held a hint of exasperation.
“I’ll be right down,” Lorelei said. And so it began.
An hour later, with a huge fake smile plastered on her face, she surveyed the room again. She’d moved three couples and adjusted four other tables where people had canceled, according to Dustin’s secretary. She had a sneaky suspicion the Director of Fundraising had invented the names and then had his minion tell her they weren’t coming at the last minute, just to screw with her plans.
Even with the large anonymous donation, ticket sales had only been so-so. They needed to clear a quarter million from the silent auction or on-site donations to make their target. The lead ball in her stomach started to roll around.
Snagging a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, Lorelei waved at Mandy across the room. Trust Mandy to show up in a crimson-red gown. At least she no longer felt out of place. She’d intercepted a few admiring glances from men, and a few envious stares from women, but so far no one had insisted she go home and change. Mandy glided across the floor and air-kissed both of Lorelei’s cheeks.
“Lookin’ good, girl,” was Mandy’s summation of Lorelei’s appearance.
“Likewise,” she said.
“Madre. De. Díos.” Mandy’s dire pronouncement had Lorelei perusing the room for the latest disruption. If one more person wanted to change tables so they’d be sitting with someone more famous, so help her, Lorelei would catapult them into the Yerba Buena Gardens.
“What now?”
“Over by the door.” Mandy’s gaze was transfixed on the entrance. “I was so worried about you that night you had the peanut allergy thing and your boyfriend asked me to stay with you, I didn’t get a good look at him.”
Lorelei swiveled and scanned the entryway, uttering her own expletive as her eyes locked on Liam. He made James Bond look like a homeless beggar. Liam’s tuxedo fit his form as though it had been molded to him. Taller than most men in attendance, he surveyed the room like he owned it. As she stared, he caught her gaze; the lazy smile that creased his face accelerated her heartbeat to a dangerous level.
“Watch your back, my friend. Every woman here tonight will risk the death penalty and kill you to have a chance at one night with him,” Mandy said.
“Except you.” Lorelei kept her eyes on Liam as he approached. He sauntered across the room and she was held motionless.
“I don’t know. I’m having a terrible time remembering my fiancé’s name right now,” Mandy whispered as Liam approached.
“Good evening, Mandy. You look very nice,” Liam said as he reached them.
“Thank you,” her friend muttered before disappearing.
“Lorelei, you are stunning.” The heat in Liam’s gaze could have melted the dress right off her. He leaned down and pressed a warm kiss on her cheek before whispering in her ear, “Thank you for wearing your hair down.” The tingle of his breath raced from her ear canal straight to her toes, which curled in her killer heels. It rebounded and settled in the pit of her stomach, sparking a warm glow that infused her body.
“It keeps my back warm,” she said, doing a spin to show him her otherwise naked back.
“Can we leave yet?” His normally deep voice had dropped another octave.
All the stress of preparing the event, all the annoyances of dealing with people’s petty requests and complaints, suddenly meant nothing. She was here with Liam and she wanted the world to know they were together.
“Not yet. However, I do have a room upstairs,” she said.
“Keep the key handy.” His sultry voice had her wondering if she could fake a headache and leave now.
“Lorelei, who’s this, then?” Two of her colleagues stood to Liam’s right, like hungry piranhas ready to swarm should he take one step toward the water.
“This is my…um…this is Liam. Liam, this is Susan and Victoria. They work for the charity in the Dream Logistics department. They organize the Happy Day for the sick children, according to what the child wants and is able to do.”
Liam shook hands with them both, but aside from being socially polite showed no interest in their provocative displays.
“Oh, there’s Mr. Holborn. I want to introduce Liam. If you’ll excuse us, ladies?”
Lorelei took Liam’s hand and pulled him away from the two salivating women and toward a fictional guest. The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Her squished pinkie toes stopped hurting and Liam’s arm around her waist, or his hand skimming her naked back, set off a cascade of sensation that numbed all the other niggles.